


When you bloom, [ I forget how to breathe ]

by MatchaMochi



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dorks, F/M, bilbo has tattoos all over wow, did this in a phone so theres bound to be some mistakes, fem!Bilbo, florist-tattoo AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatchaMochi/pseuds/MatchaMochi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hates how she smiles and steals his breath away but, well,</p><p>[Florist-tattoo AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	When you bloom, [ I forget how to breathe ]

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda new here so be kind...  
> comments are welcome of course,

The crisp morning air wasnt really pleasing, the sunshine kept flickering down his heavy eyelids and those godforsaken birds were making a racket with their wretched chirping.

He didnt really need to mention the cheerful cacophany of his neighbours as they walked around shouting their good mornings every where they go.

 _Dammnit_  he just wanted to lie down and maybe die for a while, surely the flowers could wait.

He shook his head. No, his flowers were jems and jems only truly shine when they are kept carefully. And so does his flowers, it was about time for him to water them anyway.

He got up slowly nonetheless, an inkling of a migraine already building up as he tried to walk as slow as possible to his flowers, clutching his head all the way.

The glass pane doesnt, unfortunately, cover the bright wrath of the sun fully and somehow, Thorin thinks that even his flowers were grinning mischievously at his discomfort, basking on the sun's rays. He grunts, his eyes flinching when he hears the tinklings of a bell in his ears.

It wasnt his. He shouldnt look, not really. He turns his head outside and regrets immediately.

It was the shop next to his. And if it was _that_ shop, then surely _that_ person was there and he  _really_ does _not_ need this right now. But his eyes stays, and his heart stops.

There she was, in all her beautiful glory, the source of all his sorrows and late night wanderings (those usually ends up in a pub with piles of beers at his side that could rival mountains and him being wasted and hungover in the morning) This being its prime example,)

He didnt like her [a lie], but maybe that was just because he couldnt really put a finger on her (that made him blush and he was extremely glad that thoughts were made to be private,) she was just so- so, so pushy, so loud, so _bright_. And she keeps on insisting to be friends with him, but he is pretty sure 'making friends' does not include calling him a _'grumpy old sod_ ' or a _'emotionally constipated prat'._

He didnt ask to be friendly with her. He doesnt _want_ to be friendly with her.

 _'Then_ _what is it that you want?!_ '

An argument from a long time ago, before they made the Agreement. He had said, _'I_ _want to try,'_ When he really wanted to say, _'You.'_

Because she had smiled at him when he glared back, because she had marvelled at his flowers and called them treasures, because she understands that what you are and what you do are two entirely different things and its fine if you do what you love even if youre not good at it, and because, because she had c _ared_.

He sighed.

A laugh rang out and he flinches again, eyes focusing back at the figure outside. It was late winter, early spring, but the weather's still too cold for one to just walk outside with only a t-shirt and shorts.

He frowned, putting back his watering can, ready to reprimand her for her carelessness, at least he wouldnt be blamed if she caught a cold now.

He strode out front, bells ringing quietly as he opened his door, and his eyes widens, and he freezes.

She stretches, smiling at the sun.

His flowers _blooms_.

But theyre nothing compared to the ones budding at her neck, rising to her small, slender hands and curling at her quaint fingers. She has her hands over her head, content like a cat finding a nice warm fireplace, her curly honey brown hair glinting off the sunlight like gold, and he can see white carnations, red roses and yellow buttercups down her legs and up her body, and as she sighs in the feel of the sun, the flowers seems like its rising and moving towards the light, face soft and relaxed in the warm rays, it only shows how nice and plump her lips are, like pink petals of a cherry blossom.

Her t-shirt was riding up her waist and he could _just_ made up what looked like jasmines up her soft belly and back.

He wonders what it'll be like to touch her skin, to run through all those flowers with their bright beautiful colors and watch her shiver and squirm in delight, he wonders if her thighs has lilys or morning glories, wonders if there were more flowers hidden beneath, wonders if he could ever kiss each and every one of them, if he could ever even caress each and every petal, and he-

He gulps, and imminently blushes.

"Aaaaaand snap!"

Bilbo doesnt notice his sister coming up around the shop but thorin regrettably does.

She has her phone out, a cheshire grin already painted on her face and she raised an eyebrow at his readymade glare.

"Why just two seconds ago, you were blushing like a puppy in love," she laughs at him and glanced back at Bilbo who was skipping back to her shop.

" Though, now I can tell why youre so crazy about her," She grins again and its maddening because he wants to say its not true but he just _stood_ there and _gawked_ at her like he'd never saw a real life person before, and he-

His glare intensifies.

Dis's grin widens and she tutts at him, "Glaring wont change anything thorin," she looks back at the tattoo shop,

" And you seriously wont get a date with all that glaring youre doing,"

"Shove off."

Dis only laughs at that and she turns away, her daily accomplishment of annoying her brother finished, she decides she has bigger fishes to fry, (namely Vili, the poor guy.)

" Wait!"

Dis looks back imploringly, raising her eyebrows,

"C-can I have that picture?"

Dis just laughs harder.

(And if he decides to make it his wallpaper and stare at it violently in his spare time, then thats nobodys bussiness but his own thank you.)


End file.
